25 Essential Funeral Songs of the 1960s-1990s

We have yet to hear a pop song played at a funeral, let alone 25 of them. What’s the last song you want to hear… forever? These funeral songs suit the moment.

Reaching a certain age means too many damn funerals, assuming one lacks the temerity to go first. Flowers, caskets, buckets of tears: After a while, the accouterments all seem to blend. (Death isn’t called the ‘Great Equalizer’ for nothing). However, I have yet to hear a pop song played at a funeral, let alone 25 of them. Leave it to a grimy music columnist to shatter 5,000 years of reverent tradition! I figure the longer it takes to go under, the better.

So why not request all 43 minutes of Jethro Tull’s “Thick as a Brick”, and be done with it? Trust me, I’m tempted, but the idea set me thinking. What’s the last song you want to hear… forever? Which tunes should friends and family associate with your departed mortal coil every single listen, for the rest of their lives?

My choices of funeral songs should be discreet, lest the playlist mimic Halloween. We want wistful, soaring narratives – moody anthems suffused with that intangible ‘haunting’ character. A few dollops of fun are welcome, but stay on point. Perhaps a spectacular riff or progression, something I need to hear one last time? Finally, never overlook that selfish ‘ME’ factor. After all, it’s my funeral.

Imagine King Arthur sailing off to eternity. Which timeless madrigals should grace his devoted knights, mourning him on shore?

25. Be Bop Deluxe – “Islands of the Dead” (Drastic Plastic – 1978)

I harbor a crackpot theory that Bill Nelson basically invented late 1970s progressive pop, like Yes‘ Going for the One or Permanent Waves-era Rush. Drastic Plastic was Be Bop Deluxe‘s eclectic final effort, a forward-looking mesh of rock, new wave, and ultra-early electronica. It also contains some of the decade’s most sumptuous guitar progressions, of which the majestic “Islands of the Dead” presents a shining example. 2021’s overdue hi-res remaster ups the ante, like hearing beloved half-century-old hymns crawl from under the covers for the first time… or in this case, our last. Live version, please, so we can savor Nelson’s heart-rending solo to the very end.

24. The Who – “Bargain” (Who’s Next – 1971)

As kids, we all assumed the Who‘s Who’s Next was a greatest hits record. The elegiac “Bargain” is generally considered second-tier, and most fans might choose “The Song Is Over” to herald Death’s approach. However, alongside Pete Townshend‘s pensive-turned-windmill guitar, something about “Bargain’s” coda absolutely kills us (pun intended). Those final 90 seconds make us feel we’re crying graveside ourselves, at this very moment. Perhaps it’s Keith Moon’s effervescent percussion, knowing how little time he had left? Right there with you, pal! See you soon.

23. The Doobie Brothers – “South City Midnight Lady” (The Captain and Me, 1973)

Like the Eagles, the Doobie Brothers were totally ubiquitous (and therefore overplayed) on 1970s pop radio. Also, like the Eagles, this wasn’t their fault. Despite a sporadic catalog that hasn’t aged all that well, “South City Midnight Lady” remains a beloved childhood ‘deep track’ from that era. The persistent appeal lies in its musing, countrified coda, featuring Jeff “Skunk” Baxter’s sublime steel-pedal guitar. Despite its ethereal beauty, we admit fan favorite “South City Midnight Lady” may objectively be the weakest entry on this list. Well, tough.

22. Joe Walsh – “Meadows” (The Smoker You Drink, the Player You Get – 1973)

The Eagles were everywhere in the 1970s, and no matter what the ‘cool’ folks might say today, back then everyone adored them. For me, the member who shines brightest half a century later is Joe Walsh. On top of his Eagles repertoire, Walsh’s impeccable solo career included subversive hits like “Rocky Mountain Way” and “Life’s Been Good”. Lesser-known single “Meadows” barely scratched the US Hot 100, but it’s always been our blowout favorite. That driving, propulsive riff flattens everything before it, like a chariot dragging us to our infinite reward. In this exercise, finality is everything.

21. Foghat – “Slow Ride” (Fool for the City – 1975)

At the tender age of eight, I had no idea what a “Slow Ride” was, but I knew I wanted one! This sleazy yet endearing hymn to vice, set in stone by the late ‘Lonesome’ Dave Peverett, became a leather/motorcycle favorite for entirely understandable reasons. Unlike our parents’ generation, we’d never hold Lonesome Dave’s base amorousness or double-entendres against him, because the song is just too cathartically awesome. No fadeouts or dreary radio edits, either – give us the full, triumphant eight minutes, or nothing. My list, my rules. After all, shouldn’t Death be the ultimate Slow Ride?

20. Abandoned Pools – “Goodbye Song” (Armed to the Teeth – 2005)

This selection oughta rile ’em up. After departing the Eels in 1997, Tommy Walter released one of the infant millennium’s best rock records with Abandoned Pools’ 2001 Humanistic. Follow-up Armed to the Teeth wasn’t as good, but it featured what may be Walter’s most exuberant and cleansing composition. The worse you feel inside, the harder “Goodbye Song” slams you, becoming nigh intolerable when emotions sink low enough. Since they’re pouring dirt on me, I bet I can take it. Can you?

19. David Crosby – “Laughing” (If I Could Only Remember My Name – 1971)

Whether solo, with Crosby, Stills & Nash, or the immortal Byrds, David Crosby wrote half a dozen songs worthy of this list. Much like Gerry Rafferty, Crosby was so generationally talented that people overlooked his rampant personal flaws just for the privilege of working with him. “Laughing” is his timeless ode to inner enlightenment, a funeral dirge disguised as a meandering cowboy anthem. As a living embodiment of the 1960s, Crosby’s voice came to represent so much more. Having never seen the Byrds onstage in this world, perhaps we’ll catch them in the next.

18. Electric Light Orchestra – “Last Train to London” (Discovery – 1979)

Who says we’re no fun? Only the estimable Jeff Lynne could concoct history’s lone great ‘Disco Rock’ album, 1979’s Discovery. Absolutely mortifying on paper, left-field masterstroke “Last Train to London” blares disco strings, sirens, and cheesy London Tube sound effects. Yet how we love it so! So touching, so innocent – a fleeting snapshot of youth lost, irretrievably, forever. Perhaps you just had to be there, meaning 1979, which we were. When Lynne plaintively cries, “I really want tonight to last forever!”, his falsetto hurts so darn much because we all know it won’t.

17. Elmer Bernstein – “Flight / Taarna Suite” (Heavy Metal Original Score – 1981)

I’m not a classical-music guy, but the late Elmer Bernstein – credited with some of the most popular film scores of the 20th century – makes the roster with his thrilling and underrated score to 1981’s “Heavy Metal”. Bernstein’s aching subtlety and acute sense of the moment burst through on his flagship “Taarna Suite”, which manages to sound both mythic and rip-roaring, yet spiritually damning, all at the same time. Relegated to bootlegs for years, deluxe Heavy Metal re-releases are now finally available. Audiences supposedly went wild on the rare occasions Bernstein conducted “Taarna” live. When our world ends, we want to flame out just like Taarna did.

16. The Strawbs – “The Winter and the Summer” (Bursting at the Seams – 1973

Many years ago, a coworker introduced me to the Strawbs, whom I had somehow overlooked despite my lifelong fascination with progressive rock. The band never achieved much Stateside success, and they indulged in too many artsy flourishes of the 1970s. Bursting at the Seams is their glowing exception – a straightforward, folk-inflected effort loaded with memorable passages. The lilting “Winter and the Summer” nails our melancholy motif, layering plush organ over Dave Lambert’s meditative guitar and soft vocals. “The winter and the summer / Need never come again”? This time around, I guarantee they won’t.

15. Roger McGuinn – “Ballad of Easy Rider” (Easy Rider Soundtrack – 1969)

This entry dragged us down a major rabbit hole. Supposedly inspired by a line scribbled on Bob Dylan‘s cocktail napkin (seriously?), the Byrds’ Roger McGuinn expanded the Master’s offhand doodle into this generational soundtrack highlight. This orchestrated version of “Ballad”, credited solely to McGuinn, enhances our sepulchral mood perfectly. The film “Easy Rider” contained everything we Gen X kids didn’t understand about the 1960s – drugs, hippies, freedom at all costs. This closing-credits theme distills an entire decade’s nostalgic brew down to its essence: tragic loss and searing finality.

14. Single Gun Theory – “Motherland” (Flow, River of My Soul – 1994)

Single Gun Theory’s third and final studio release, the uber-passionate Flow, River of My Soul, is a gut-wrenching document of emotional devastation. The record signaled a drastic shift for the Aussie band, who toned down their generic dance beats for rolling, jazz-tinged innovation. “Motherland” remains a legitimate soul-crusher, with Jacqui Hunt limning pained lyrics like “A long, long time ago / You and I kissed goodbye the love of our lives…” My grandfather always hoped it would rain at his funeral, so nobody enjoyed the ride to the cemetery. “Motherland” serves the same purpose.

13. The Church – “Now I Wonder Why” (Seance – 1983)

Granted, the Church‘s “Under the Milky Way” would be an obvious choice here. However, I’ve always nursed a soft spot for 1983’s haunted Seance, whose lilting melodies ushered me through many an emotional bind. Brooding, atmospheric, and more mystical than a pop song, Steve Kilbey’s “Now I Wonder Why” captures this list’s dark intent as well as any other song on it. Such an eerie bridge, too, with what resembles a harmonica but is actually keyboard effects. Every minute of Seance sounds like it was produced by ghosts.

12. Grand Funk Railroad – “Closer to Home (I’m Your Captain)” (Closer to Home – 1970)

Grand Funk Railroad topped the charts multiple times in the early 1970s, but this orchestra-tinged ten-minute opus, so unlike anything else in the band’s repertoire, probably shouldn’t have sniffed the Top 40 at all. “Closer to Home” plays like a glorious symphony because it is one: inspired by the Moody Blues, producer Terry Knight hired the Cleveland Orchestra to overlay the celebrated shipwreck ending. According to Billy James’ “The Story of Grand Funk Railroad”, band members hadn’t heard the full version until Knight played it for them. Writer/guitarist Mark Farner nearly cried; as drummer Don Brewer recalls, “Oh my God, it was magnificent.”

11. Crosby, Stills & Nash – “Guinnevere” (CSN Box Set – 1991)

Our second David Crosby entry, and a compelling argument for box sets. The original version, from 1969’s seminal Crosby, Stills & Nash, was surpassed by this dreamy, cerebral, and more focused alternate take 22 years later. Crosby seems to have composed “Guinnevere” in response to world-class romantic pain, death, and loss. 1991’s pioneering four-CD CSN collection set the stage for all future box sets in terms of breadth and comprehensiveness, making it a must-have even for casual fans. Yes, the two ‘Ns’ were deliberately misspelled.

10. Jethro Tull – “Life Is a Long Song” (Living in the Past – 1972)

Jethro Tull‘s 1972 double-LP Living in the Past is considered the first true “odds and ends” compilation, essentially holding the fort between Aqualung and Thick as a Brick, featuring a mix of hits and rarities. That it did its job so well is a tribute to the strength of supposed ‘cutting floor’ material like “Life Is a Long Song”. Surging from signature Ian Anderson acoustic folk to an orchestrated paean of joy and regret, the track hurts even more with age, as life and health become ever tougher to maintain. Having remastered nearly all of Jethro Tull’s catalog, Porcupine Tree‘s Steven Wilson had to wait for AI-assisted ‘spectral demixing’ technology to complete the hi-res mixes on 2025’s Still Living in the Past re-release.

9. Ace Frehley – “Fractured Mirror” (Ace Frehley – 1978)

The first instrumental, and one of the most shocking rug-pulls in rock history. Former Kiss guitarist Frehley may be the one and only Space-Ace, but the magnificent “Fractured Mirror” must have sprung wholly-formed from another dimension. Meticulously constructed, hauntingly symmetrical, this affecting pastoral suite sounds nothing like the rock band we ten-year-olds adored. So beautiful is “Fractured Mirror” that one’s breath still catches upon hearing it today, half a lifetime later. Sex, drugs, and wild concerts be damned: the mind behind this deathless slice of perfection was considerably more sophisticated than contemporary listeners were led to believe.

8. Gordon Lightfoot – “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” (Summertime Dream – 1976)

Everyone remembers the Titanic. But would anyone recall the 1975 sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald without this #2 smash? Gordon Lightfoot’s eternal classic still comes to mind after every human disaster, as the ultimate cautionary tale about the “by the grace of God” phenomenon. So vivid was Lightfoot’s poetic storytelling that even as youngsters, we competed to see who could memorize the entire thing.

According to the 2019 documentary “If You Could Read My Mind”, this hit version was a rough, first-take rehearsal, which, try as they might, Lightfoot and his crew simply couldn’t top. Yours truly was privileged to see the late troubadour onstage twice, in 1985 and 1996. Both times, the reverent hush during “Edmund Fitzgerald” was nothing short of stunning.

7. King Crimson – “Epitaph” (In the Court of the Crimson King – 1969)

Alongside Black Sabbath, King Crimson‘s apocalyptic 1969 landmark In the Court of the Crimson King set the template for a swarm of progressive / proto-metal followers. In the shadow of mastermind Robert Fripp, Greg Lake’s contribution is criminally neglected. His doom-laden vocals on the fortress-like “Epitaph” forge a near-Biblical experience, delivering some of the bleakest lyrics about the end of the world in rock history. “The fate of all mankind, I fear / Is in the hands of fools”? If half of what he sings here is true, then the human race surely deserves its ungodly fate, but what a perfect Valhalla sendoff.

6. Steve Hackett – “The Virgin and the Gypsy” (Spectral Mornings – 1979)

Unlike his more-famous bandmates, Genesis guitarist Steve Hackett flew under the radar, never notching a chart hit. However, critical regard for his remarkable body of work continues to grow. All of Spectral Mornings is excellent, but “The Virgin and the Gypsy” stands out for its probing aura, otherworldly introspection, and gentle, layered instrumentation. Flute, harpsichord, and mellifluous 12-string guitars all play a role. 2015’s must-own Premonitions box set contains Hackett’s entire remastered catalog, including Spectral Mornings in 5.1 hi-res surround sound.

5. The Moody Blues – “Are You Sitting Comfortably?” (On the Threshold of a Dream – 1969)

We always say that the Byrds, the Who, and the Moody Blues conceived everything we adore about pop music. “Are You Sitting Comfortably?”, from the Moodies’ enchanted prime, is a sterling example. This ageless, flute-tinged ballad carries the weight of centuries, like some lost ancient manuscript – so delicate, like gossamer, or a spider’s web. Perhaps in the hereafter, we’ll travel back to the 1600s, when a certain conspiracy-minded columnist is convinced this track was actually recorded.

4. Supertramp – “Even in the Quietest Moments” (Even in the Quietest Moments – 1977)

This epic track’s bucolic, ineffable beauty knocked us over from the very first listen. Dark, impassioned, and possessing mysterious depths that are probably better left untouched, “Even in the Quietest Moments” plays like a desperate human gambit for Divine mercy, as singer Roger Hodgson of Supertramp pleads against the shared metaphorical inevitability of death, love, and loss. The song’s bridge remains unforgettable – a silky, translucent refuge with a mailed fist inside. From any vantage point, the magnificent “Quietest Moments” is an out-and-out masterpiece.

3. Genesis – “The Cinema Show” (Selling England by the Pound – 1973)

Much like the Beatles, Genesis proved a musical grenade of talent – after the implosion, each band member earned solo success on his own. The endless ‘Gabriel vs. Collins’ debate nearly runs aground on this masterpiece of intelligent progressive rock, a pinnacle the group approached post-Gabriel, but never quite equaled. There are passages in “Cinema Show” whose aching beauty defies description, nestled inside a Byzantine, suite-like structure the music industry has long since abandoned. We caught original guitarist Steve Hackett perform the song on tour in 2016, a treat we won’t soon forget.

2. Deadwood Forest – “The City in the Sea” (Mellodramatic – 1999)

Of course, this weirdo writer’s second pick would have to be something nobody ever heard of, and an instrumental to boot. (We had to post the YouTube video ourselves, for heaven’s sake.) To classic art-rock fans tired of overwrought neo-metal and dime-a-dozen Marillion wannabes, the unheralded Mellodramatic was a godsend. Finally, a post-1970s art-rock band that got it right! Few have recorded anything as lovely as the flute and breezy keyboards on “City in the Sea”, cycling from birth unto death and back again, all in an epic six-and-a-half minutes. Close your eyes and it’s 1973 all over again, with a Yes/ELP/Genesis triple-bill on tap… in this case, forever.

1. Yes – “Close to the Edge” (Close to the Edge – 1972)

Could our final farewell be any other? Time has crowned Yes as progressive rock royalty, with good reason. Their intricate, ambitious pre-1975 output ranks among the most accomplished bodies of work in music history. “Close to the Edge” remains the band’s eloquent and compelling gift to posterity – a twisty mind-warp, stimulating the brain’s pleasure centers like some underground drug. Its spellbinding bridge approximates a religious experience, with Anderson, Squire, and Howe layering their exquisite harmonies over Rick Wakeman’s cathedral-esque pipe organ. Wherever the ‘Edge’ is, that’s the place we want to stay.